I gave all I could, but it left me so sore
by f2010
Summary: Gillian centric fic inspired by 'Do no Harm'  1x06  and Sophie being taken away.


AN: This a Gillian centric fic. A one shot that had to "get out" one night. My dear Canuck beta worked her magic, so all remaining mistakes are mine.

I wished _they_ were mine too, but they obviously aren't. Neither is the title: it comes from a song by The Cranberries.

It was inspired by 'Do no harm' (episode 1x06) which made me realise that we had barely scratched the surface of the wonder that is Gillian Foster. She broke my heart a little at the end.

* * *

**'I gave all I could, but it left me so sore'**

She was oppressed. Her breathing got faster and she started struggling. Pushing at... something trying very hard to wrap around her. She knew she was starting to panic. She couldn't help it. She did not stop.

Struggling.

Panicking.

Screaming. Or so she thought.

The feeling was getting tighter. It was vicious, but she was relentless. She was a fighter. She learnt that one young enough. Fight as long as you can. She had stopped once and never got over that bitter taste... that feeling that she could have done more. And maybe... not win, oh no, no chance of that ever happening. But maybe, just maybe, she might not have felt so lousy and weak. But that was a story from ancient time.

Had she been totally conscious she would have rationalised it, and put her childhood back into one of her little boxes inside her head. A nice little box with a neat label. Appearances can do wonder. She had learnt that almost at the same time, too.

Something human touched her and she froze, then shot up in her bed, mouth wide open, scream stuck inside. Her husband's hand lightly trailed her arm. He didn't speak. He didn't move closer. He just waited. It took her a couple of minutes to get her bearings. Tears were streaming down her face.

How could she be shedding tears when she felt so empty inside? Her breathing was still quite erratic but at least she knew where she was.

It had been a week, but her perception of time had been tricky lately, and her mind clearly could not process it. Her body tried to take over and let it out. She was so exhausted. One week already. She blinked, and slowly turned toward Alec. She almost did a double take then, realising he looked so normal.

How could he? How did he dare?

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to concentrate on her breathing. She felt him move and chanced another look. He was facing her, staring at her. Fresh tears made their way down her cheeks and neither moved. She finally opened trembling lips, mustering the courage to speak. He tensed immediately and she froze again. Her tears led to heart wrenching sobs and she couldn't get out of bed fast enough. She untangled the covers and threw them away before rushing to the door.

Once out, she stopped dead in her tracks. The next door was slightly ajar. She raised a trembling hand to the handle and carefully closed it.

She went to their living room and starting wandering around before taking up position in front of one of the windows; the one with no street lamp in front of it. Darkness was so appealing to her. She welcomed the chill rising through her bare feet.

x-x-x-x

He had been serious.

The last few days had been so intense. They both had been too caught up in things and dealing with work.

At first, their reaction had been not to talk. They needed to think it through on their own and realise what had happened. Well, she had to stop making excuses. Alec had made the decision for both of them when he left the house and did not come back for two days. Work had saved her then. Cal obviously knew something was very wrong but she must have been in such a bad shape that he did not pressure her. She had barely enough energy left not to fall apart. And then Alec came back and she thought she would finally get the comfort she'd been craving.

He had caught her in his arms as soon as he was through the door. They had both held on for a long while, and right at that moment, hidden from the outside world in his familiar presence, she had forgiven him. He was back. 'Here and now' kept going round and round through her head. He was there, it was going to be ok. They were going to be ok.

Somewhere in her mind, one of her little box's neat etiquette was fading away. But she did not linger on that. She couldn't.

They did not even speak that night. They went straight to bed after a light dinner. She could not let him out of her sight for a second. She had to touch him every two minutes, and he let her. _Bastard_.

He took her in his arms and she was glad he was finally coming to her for comfort. She was going to give him everything he needed, whatever her own needs were. He was her husband and they would get through it together. She did not expect him to be so sweet. She thought he'd be angry and maybe a bit rough. Well, she wasn't in her right mind to read or judge him. He was there, nothing else mattered. Until he got out of bed in the middle of the night.

She admitted to herself she was disappointed to wake up to a cold bed. It was too early in the morning and she had once again fought a never-ending battle within the covers. She hesitated for only a couple of seconds before deciding to let him have his space and stayed in bed to try and get some more sleep. She was too drained. He had come back home, they would get through it.

He had breakfast before she woke up for the second time. Some mildly warm coffee was waiting for her while he was apparently working on his computer. Her throat constricted but she forced herself to eat something. Then she went beside him and wrapped her arms around him. He shrugged her off. Just like that. He flicked her off as easily as one would flick a piece of lint from a sleeve. Funny, she didn't think she could hurt more.

She tried not to let it get to her though. She brushed his cheek and when he turned to her, she recoiled a little at the coldness of his stare despite her resolve. She bit her lip before starting to speak. His jaw clenched and he suddenly got up and pushed her away. She could see him exercising a great deal of restraint. There was the anger she had expected.

He rebuffed her in no uncertain way. He even said he was sorry. But he would not, could not listen to her. His wife. The mother of their child. A psychologist, who lived to listen and listen and talk and listen; someone who loved to comfort people. He was denying her of her very essence. She remained stunned in the room long after he was gone. He came back, the very same day, but gave her the cold treatment. And she had no idea what to do about it. He was magnifying her helplessness. That shaky feeling that started to invade her when they took Sophie away. She had not fully comprehended what was happening at the time. So many emotions were raging inside of her very being that she did not even try analysing them. But it had just come back full force to hit her then, thanks to Alec.

Because of Alec.

Because…

She had resolved she would stop making excuses for him, but she could not fix it all. Especially if he did not want her to.

Helpless…

Last time she had checked, that box had been closed for so long it had started getting rusty. Now it laid crumpled on the ground of her tired mind.

Standing in the middle of their house that night she finally got it. He would not talk about 'it'. Ever. Or at least not in the near future. If near could extend to at least, oh, let's say ten years. She almost laughed in the middle of her tears. Better stick to 'not ever'. She did know him.

She started to shake.

x-x-x-x

She did not really remember calling him, but she stumbled into him as soon as she clumsily opened her door. He enfolded her in his arms and managed to move them a bit so as to close the door behind him. He guided her to the couch and spared a glance to the opened bottle of wine. He frowned. He had never seen her like that, and thought she would have gone for something stronger. He certainly would have. He turned his attention back to her and his chest tightened. Maybe she knew even strong alcohol would not dull her pain.

She was hurt. She was lost and insecure, and though he knew what happened, he wasn't sure about all the fallout. The despair in her voice when she had called had cut right through him. Her crying had stolen his breath. Facing her now, his heart was all over the place. He had not hurt so much for someone else in decades. He lightly stroke her wet cheek. He silently cursed when that earned him more fresh tears. He gathered her in his arms. That was the best he could do. For her. And for him. He couldn't stand looking into her eyes when she wasn't able to hide her vulnerability. As much as he disrespected the line, if she hadn't talked about yet, he wasn't going to read her. She needed him on a more primal level. He didn't need to read her to feel connected to her. He cradled her face in his hand and she turned into his neck, gripping his sides a little tighter. He rocked them both for a while.

She felt Alec arrive in the room. She recoiled just enough from Cal's safe haven to look above her shoulder. He stayed in the shadows of the corridor, watching them. He looked tired and his eyes were still so cold. Her chest constricted at the sight. She could not lose him too.

She felt defenseless toward his anger. She could not deal with the loss to start with. She knew him well enough to expect it, yet she did not understand his latent aggressivity. That was not how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to stick together and help each other. He didn't leave her time to do anything though. She guessed it was not so bad since he had gone back to their bedroom. She could not lose him too.

And yet, she could not find it in herself to go back there with him. She did not know how to face him.

x-x-x-x

He did not need to be a psychologist to know about triggers. They had never talked about it. She had used him as a safeguard, he knew that, and was a bit frightened by that knowledge. He could push her buttons. He quite enjoyed that actually.

But a safeguard?

He didn't like having that much power over her. That meant no screwing up. Even if that happened only once. Over her own husband. That evening of curling up on her couch, with Alec's ghost looming in the corridor and Sophie in every single one of her tears, that night marked him. She had shown him a new level of intimacy, with no words and a lot of clinging. He was grateful. He was petrified.

She had got a few hours of sleep, and started the next day more self assured. He had seen strength in her steady gaze the next morning. He had witnessed a new resolve in her stride. He had helped, and he was grateful.

He relived those hours in a flash as she arrived smiling in the office.

She brushed off his concern. How could she abandon that case? She was ok.

She had learnt to live with it. The box of denial in her mind was overflowing and had often threatened to mutate into a tidal wave, but she had managed to stay afloat.

So far.

x-x-x-x

She had expected to make some sacrifices. She had never contemplated talking to be one of them. Not when they met over a passionate debate. Not when they spent entire evenings whispering on the couch, creating that atmosphere of secrecy they enjoyed. That and their whispering breaths that tenderly caressed the other's face and neck. The loving embraces that followed... None of that had happened in a while after Sophie had been taken. But they stood together. They were still adapting, together in their house devoid of joy. She had a whole new insight at how much she valued her marriage. She had not stopped once to consider the foolishness of her actions and efforts.

How could suppressing a part of them fill a giant hole?

She had been such an idiot. Things needed to change. Again. She would find another way. She still would not talk to him. It was the price to pay to keep him from collapsing.

But she would find a way.

As much as he hurt her, she was in love with him still. She may have discovered a new part of him, but that weakness called to her. So she made it hers.

x-x-x-x

Her chocolate and foamy coffee consumption increased exponentially. She discovered a new appreciation for simple little things. She had always enjoyed the small pleasures in life, but she was taking it to a whole new level. She almost cracked when he called her idiotically happy. If only he knew... Nothing was perfect. She kept turning when she heard a baby cry and teared up every time she saw a little pink hat.

But she was functioning. They were functioning.

He threw himself into work even more than herself. Or so he pretended. She was still too tired to probe too much. He would not have let her anyhow. She figured he also needed time to sort himself out. He came back home every evening. Almost. He had taken her out a couple of weeks ago, and they had had a good time. She had hope. They were on the right track. She closed her eyes and wished that nagging feeling to leave her alone. They were on the right track.

The 'doubt' box inside her mind was never supposed to be the biggest of them all.

x-x-x-x

She felt Cal's gaze on her when the mother's words ripped her apart. She seemed so controlled despite her trembling lips, and yet the words left on their own. She had not made the conscious decision of telling her about Sophie. Her instinct had been right though, as usual.

x-x-x-x

She wished there weren't so many city lights, but the huge expanse of sky above it all made up for it a little. There was never enough dark in those cases anyway.

She heard his tentative footsteps and was prepared to soldier on. He had been so good to her. She acknowledged that another box was overflowing. One that made her heart beat faster. Even flutter sometime if she wasn't too careful. That made for some warmth in the middle of all the turmoil. The ghost of a smile appeared in the middle of the tears. She couldn't imagine where she'd be without his constant support in the last few months. She knew she had frightened him.

She realised suddenly that she could kill two birds with one stone. No, she could not talk to Alec. But Cal was here, for good, and she owed it to him to explain. He would never demand that she did. He had proven that. But he would listen. He might even get angry on her behalf, and she might regain a sense of peace.

So she started talking.

He brushed his hand on her shoulder again and they stood a minute in silence.

x-x-x-x

She arrived home exhausted. But when she got to him, reading on the couch, she leaned toward him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He froze, blinked, and finally turned. They looked at each other. He was a bit dumbfounded but she saw him relax and his gaze softened.

So it was still theirs to save.

She smiled.


End file.
